Of disorientation

Today my thoughts are broken. It's quite the status quo of my mind, feeling a mix of being lost and missing something (that sylvan being, the intensely desirable star forever out of reach) that would make it all fit. If I were to speak my mind more constantly as it is, this blog would be mostly about this. But it's amazing how hard it is to talk about this. To word a solid idea is so easy, no way to be compared with explaining how messy, troubled and unsure one head is, or why it's so.

Though I value being like this for it's exactly what triggers my desire to create, to map things I feel in order to feel just a little less bewildered, to name all these different feelings storming me and to understand why these things are happening inside me. But also sometimes it's exactly what makes this to become such a heavy burden, there's always something ahead, always a piece is missing, always a tremor bringing me down, that in these times seem to take advantage of my sudden weakening. Seems the more I try to understand who I am, the more I introspect, the worst it gets. The more you look for it, the farther away it is. But if I ever abandon this quest, it won't be because of a confirmed limitation.

It's annoying having so many ideas that don't match or always realizing something being done wrong, an important element and factor being forgotten, or finding out that there's no way one can't ever be completely safe from contradiction and hypocrisy. But unbelievably there are things worst than the a feeling of heaviness and shame pushing my chest down. It's one of those Blackouts. It's happening again and it astounds me how it scares me to find the absence of meaningful vortexes, finding  that nothing is calling my attention, nothing triggers my interest. It's not even the feeling of pointlessness, just apathy, though I dread carelessness so much that it brings me the worriment that the hollow is what I am. It's the fear of the confirmation that I'm aware that I'm not suffering from a meaningless delirium again, but rather being so aware of my insignificance to try, and that I'm only dreaming I can make it because I'm too blindfolded to realize what it truly takes to make it. I always seem to feel like being on the verge of falling down. There's always something about to bring an end to everything I'm building here.

Although I feel so tired, this probably is the reason why I can never let myself rest. It's because it makes the engine slow down and stop. The engine cools down and then becomes frigid and careless. There I go into one of those states of mind that are always feeling different in each occasion. Is this one of those dead-ends, or the realm of uncertainty? It's as if what these words meant was lost and I was left with these empty vessel that the name became. Or maybe it is like a chord, that always sound different depending on the progression that led me to it.

So sour still fires inside my body, but here I ask myself what the point for this development is. Sometimes it feels like I'm only using it to hide from some kind of damage I can't resolve, or maybe it is exactly what's fueling me. Sometimes it grows to become a genuine desire almost independent, but somehow not as motivating and resistant alone. And I ask myself how dangerous it is for the safety of this quest. Now, could I really be asking to remain damaged and to keep bearing this feeling of heavy restlessness?